


If I Never Knew You

by HeirofFuck



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Ableist Language, Affairs, Aftermath of Violence, Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Federal Agents, Alternate Universe - Gang World, Alternate Universe - Gangsters, Blood, Blood and Gore, Blood and Torture, Blood and Violence, Drug Use, Drugs, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Falling In Love, Federal Bureau of Investigation, Friendship/Love, Gang Violence, Gore, Graphic Description of Corpses, Gun Violence, Homophobic Language, Law Enforcement, Love, Love Confessions, Making Love, Multi, Racist Language, Sex, Strong Female Characters, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-03
Updated: 2014-09-19
Packaged: 2018-02-03 08:04:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1737350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeirofFuck/pseuds/HeirofFuck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Notorious gang leader, Meenah Pexies, is at the top of her game with the big dogs. Sure, the Feds had been up her ass a lil bit, but she had nothing to worry about. Karkat Vantas is a moody Federal agent assigned to take down the infamous gang, who go by the name of "The HighBloods". Nothing can go wrong right? Even if that stupid shorty is kinda cute, and that dangerous blood thirsty woman gives you butterflies for some reason. </p><p>(inspired by an amazing roleplay)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

       In short, Meenah Pexies was a bad bitch. And when I say bad, I mean  _bad_. Her guns were pink-and get this-bedazzled. She wouldn't touch a gun that wasn't decorated and blinged out to her liking. She liked to wear gold. Only gold, none of that diamonds or pearls bullshit, that was basic bitch trash. Now don't get me wrong, life wasn't just fun and games along with pretty little accessories-though they helped-running the Highblood gang was hard. She had inherited the role of leadership from her mother, whom she had grown to be very much like. Nothing like her younger sister, weak, frail, all too innocent to be involved in this steaming pile of horseshit. Feferi was a princess that needed to be protected, the girls with families in the gang were always treated like princesses, royalty, spoiled rotten. At least, thats all he knew. 

      But stupid, short, meaningless fuckery wasn't going to help him crack down on this brutal group of thugs who seemed to think they controlled everything and everyone in this town. Karkat Vantas was seated in a very swank, very expensive, and very golden looking building, which went by the name of "The Beforus Lounge." The place wasn't too shabby either, decorated like he had just stepped into the 1920s, mostly everything was either gold or black. It was pretty empty, save the few people mulling and shmoozing around, but it was only 5:30, he still had time. This project had less evidence than who stole the cookie from the fucking cookie jar, all fingers pointing in all different directions, and if any thing was going to be proven he would need a heaping pile of evidence. Informants could be the most vague, asinine, shit-for-brains sometimes. 'Pexies will be here for a thing that was going down tonight.' A thing. Well, whoop-de-fucking-do for that earth-shatteringly crucial nugget of information there! When Karkat had asked the reliability of the guy, the lack of an immediate answer told him everything he needed to know, no one took him seriously. This wonderful, upstanding individual, who had oh so graciously, donated that wonderful little pin point of information, was probably just as guilty as the people he was-oh so subtly-ratting out. Meaning this whole thing had been a crapshoot and that's why Karkat was here all on his lonesome.  

     And exactly three hours, ninety minutes, and five thousand four hundred seconds later, the woman of the hour _finally_ arrived. 

     Now, men categorized women in four ways. Mothers, virgins, sluts, and bitches. So, she used the best aspect from all four. The wisdom of a mother, the integrity of a virgin, the sexual attractiveness of a slut, and the control of a bitch. Using herself like this, it wasn't hard to say that Pexies could easily be one of the most fearsome women to ever step into the Beforus lounge. Long, tanned, toned legs crossed, she sat on a black bar stool, greeting and waiting for the rest of her clients to arrive. Tonight was just a little business with some senators and politicians, nothing big, nothing dirty, just a little business. Needless to say, she was sure to dress for the occasion. Her hip length dark brown curls, that she had mostly kept in two braids, were out and freed. flowing down her back and shoulders, looking far too much like Feferi for her liking. She wore a gold dress, one with a plunging V neck, with hardly any back. It was floor length and form fitted, making her look like any other woman simply enjoying the wealth of the Lounge. All of her jewelry was gold as well, but there was no surprise. Three of her most trusted men, Dirk, Grant, and Equius had joined her-just in case- for this little meeting, and casually mulled around the lounge, ordering drinks and talking to wealthy families as if they themselves had been the sons of some rich bastard. Taking her red lips from her thin, tall glass of sparkling champaign, Meenah narrowed her eyes from her seat across the bar. It was a damn good lookin' place, she'd give it that. Dinner, dancing, drinking, separate rooms for meetings, large bathrooms, a room for small children to play in-damn this place had it all! Hazel eyes flicked around the current room she was settled in, as she awaited the arrival of her last senator. 

     Three hours ninety minutes, and five thousand four hundred _fucking_ seconds later, things finally started to get interesting. 

     It wasn't exactly brain science to break it all down like that, but Karkat had had little else to do, other than watch Pexies be a socialite and shmooze her way around 'our towns best and wisest leaders' who know damn full well who she was. One by one, Meenah herded them into a small conference room in the back-and that got the agent's attention. It seemed she wasn't just here for shits and giggles. To be honest, it had been utterly boring for the both of them, sitting around and waiting for whatever the fuck that was supposed to be going down to go the fuck down. Only when the golden clad woman caught site of a round, short, grey haired man did her eyes light up.

   "Mr. Direzzo!" her voice flitted gently over the chatter and soft jazz that was filling the room. After about a half hour waiting for this late motherfucker, while she had to deal with the other politicians staring at her ass, Meenah was thankful to see him. To be honest, she wouldn't go through with this as often as she did if it hadn't been for the big time cash she got from it. And she was all about getting her paper through any means possible. The last of the older, grey haired, middle aged, and slightly wrinkled, men jumped and turned when he heard his name, eyes falling on Pexies, who moved out of her seat like liquid gold. Smiling nervously, he readjusted his tie. Why were they always so goddamn jumpy? Sure, they're job, reputation, and life would be completely obliterated if they were found out for illegally "borrowing" money from some aristocrat in London, but here they were. And they came in hoards, greedy grabby hands, weighted down by their pay day, calloused from counting their money. That may have been one of the things that meenah would admit she had in common with these spineless man babies. The incurable addiction to cash money.

   "M-m-m-ms. Pexies." He said, extending a shaking arm to her drawing back. He was afraid of her, and she found it all too amusing. And powerful. At first glance, she didn't seem tough. She was shorter than most girls, feminine looking (given the way her hair was all down and curly) small features, she looked more like a trophy wife all dolled up like that. But in reality, she was infamous for leaving a body in the street, rather than clean up her mess. She thought it sent a better message to the public to **NOT FUCK WITH HER.** But for now, she was a calm little barbie doll, that just had to smile and wave and deal with these perverted 'men of the law' grabbing at her, literally. Tonight was not a violent night (minus the miniature hand gun she managed to hide in the crotch of her underwear because she had no pockets and this damn dress was so low cut it was impossible to wear a bra.) 

   "Come, right this way." She said sweetly, a smile as fake as a rich wife's tits, putting her delicate hand on the jumpy senator's back, leading him to the conference room. "You're the last to arrive, London Associates are here, they're very happy to be doing business with you." The man smiled uncomfortably and nodded, seeming to hyper ventilate. "Sorry if i held anyone up, the taxi you sent came late and"-"Of course not!." Meenah laughed out, cutting him off. She didn't give a damn, just get in the fucking room already and pay up. Sauntering beside him, her strappy heels clacked against the floor. "Relax, we have some fine champaign inside, I highly suggest you try it." The drunker you are, the more money you spend. The more money you spend, the more money you get, the more money you get, the more money she gets. It was quite a complicated process that, granted, even she didnt completely understand. As long as it put green on her table every week, it was aight with her.   


     In his lonely, little corner of the bar, Karkat gave an inaudible growl when he heard the name Direzzo. That magnanimous asshole had made a big to-do about a donation he'd made just a few months ago for stopping gang violence. A bunch of optimistic halfwits his superiors where, it seemed like no one had bothered to follow the happy, little sum that to see if it had been contributed to it's said cause. Then again, someone could have, but likely didn't give a fuck. It didn't matter what side of the law you were on, every asshole, dirty or straight, needed cash, and seeing this jittery silver-haired fuck walk into the painfully ritzy conference room had probably just ruined what little hopes Karkat had of a decent bonus this year. That was-if he didn't follow them. With the information he had now, there was absolutely jack shit he could do about anything going on. No evidence, no bust. No bust, no money. No money, no more every night Rom-Coms on netflix. Nobody fucked with his Rom-Coms. 

    Taking a deep breath, Karkat counted the seconds again, fingers drumming impatiently on the golden bar table as it that might speed up his never ending waiting. This time, he stopped at the three hundred before abruptly pushing back in his seat and standing up. The problem with this little maneuver, is that he'd have to abandon wallflower status which he had been forced to endure, and step out into the danger zone. Anyone could be looking for a bathroom, right? Just happen to stumble into the meeting room next to the one Meenah Pexies and her stuttering dog had walked into, and snuggle up next to the vent right? Fuck it, he had no time for realizing how stupid he was, he already knew that. Using a folding chair as a barrier, he 'locked' himself in the red and gold room-a nice color change from the boring gold on black he had been stuck with for a while- and crouched next to the vent. 

    Once the glamorous door had been sealed carefully in the next room over, the woman clad in gold sauntered over to the circular table, full of men in the middle of the room, followed by Direzzo, who seemed to be glistening in sweat now. At the table, grey haired men of all shapes and sizes sat, awaiting the arrival of their ruler, along with a man who hadn't been seen by the federal agent. Cronus Amora, black, slicked back hair, with a fat cigar hanging from his mouth. Cronus and his family had moved from scotland durring the forth grade, and settled right into the house neighboring Meenah's. Both had grown up in the same piss poor neighborhood in their town, while their parents ruled the ghetto. The gang life was all they knew, and it's what connected them. Meenah didn't really enjoy Cronus's company by any means, he was an annoying little bitch, but the cold hard cash he kept rollin in kept him under her wing.

    He was probably the slimiest dirt bag she'd ever met, and that said a lot, counting on the fact that she met a lot of damn slimy dirtbags in her life. Maybe it was that his hand was slowly creeping its way up her thigh under the table, or the way his hair gel smelled like bat shit, but he was pissing her off today. Slamming her knee upwards, crushing his hand between her knee and the underside of the wooden table, she over powered his yelp with a clear of the throat. "Mr.Ampora and you will be talking business, I'm just here to ensure...safety." This is where her act came in. Meenah lowered her voice and made a point to look every goddamn politician in the eye. "Now, Mr. Ampora is a friend of mine, and I'd hate to see him get ratted out by someone. Even anonymously, I would find whoever that individual was and...well...let's not get into that, shall we? I just hate seeing bad things happen to good people. I'll let you gentlemen get to business."

    Holy shit. Holy fucking shit, Karkat couldn't believe he was hearing this! He couldn't believe his phone was recording this! This was evidence, this was cold hard, fucking, proof that you couldn't ignore. Years, _years_ of his office trying to find some dirt, some way to convict these criminals, and he had the beginings of unraveling it all! By nitpicking every single little string he could, he himself, Karkat Vantas, would be the sole rescuer of the town and will have taken down one of the most fearsome gangs the city has ever seen. Granted, some parts were a bit echo-y, and he'd have to run a background check on this 'Ampora' character, but it was a good fucking start. He was going to tug at every single little string that he could, and if he tugged hard enough, he would find himself right to the heart of the HighBloods. Meenah Pexies herself. 

   Blah blah blah. Hand on the leg. Slap. Blah blah blah. Hand on the shoulder. Shrug. Blah blah blah. Hand on her inner thigh. "You best be gettin' the fuck outta there before I stomp the yard with yo body." Meenah hissed towards the older senator's ear who had been very touchy feely with her as of late. Mr. Grabby hands, Mr. Horn horn. "Excuse me?" The grey haired wrinkly fuck laughed out, raising his eyebrows and not removing his hand, which was now dangerously close to the hand gun she had shoved in her underwear. Like her threat was a joke, he grinned at he, as if it were impossible for a woman to have an opinion about being touched. And if there was anything Meenah Pexies hated more than the Feds, it was a sexist asshole. She repeated herself, smile on her face, eyes wide and unstable. Looking at him as if she were a serial killer and he was her victim. "I said, you best be gettin yo goddamn hand off me before I stomp the yard with yo body. I swear to god I will snatch you so fast by that fake ass comb over of yours-I will choke you with it so get your fucking hands off me."Usually she didn't speak like that to her 'business partners.' She spoke in an educated, calm, enunciated, _white_ way. Ooooh when she git mad though, when she got mad, she spoke the way she did around her gang, around her victims, the way her mother used to speak when she was alive. And that was the language of 'baddest bitch on the planet.' 

    Quite shocked by her threat, the man removed his hand and turned back to the conversation in front of him, which was confirming just how illegal this activity would be. His eyes were wide and his bushy eyebrows lifted as if he was shocked.  _Yeah yeah that's right motherfucker. Thinkin he can all up and grab me like I'm some kinda merchandise._ Meenah ranted inwardly. She would've pulled out her gun and plugged him if he wasn't her money source. Even so, the gang leader was feeling quite proud of herself for telling him off, and sat up straight, full of pride and control, before something ended it all. It was faint. It was a phone tone, a little calypso tune. And it was coming from the vent.  _  
_

It was unquestionably the most inopportune happenstance that all of casualty could throw at him, and to make matters worse, there wasn't a single fucking thing that could be done about it. He had watched his phone light up, and had just enough time for his eyes to widen in horror before the un-muted alarm of his phone sounded off. The cheerful little song mocking him in every way possible. Letting everyone within a fucking earshot of him that it had been four hours since he'd arrived, and it was time to head out if nothing of interest happened. There was a dull thud on the ground as Karkat dove for the blaring piece of technology, whispering a foul string of curses behind him as he frantically tried to silence the alarm.

    _Where you fucking kidding me?! The FUCKING VENT?!_ Someone was listening to them. Someone was watching them. "stop." She said into the group of chattering men, who ignored her. No surprise there. "STOP!" She shouted with more urgeny, which got her the quiet she had commanded, along with a handful of looks. The men around the table seemed shocked that a  _woman_ was interrupting business, as the hum of conversation ceased. 

   "Somebody's watching us." She tried to say it as calm and quiet as possible, as not to cause an uproar, but it was a fruitless effort. Of course, the very moment she spoke, they were crying about their jobs, their family, their mistresses, their position of power, their reputation, their blah blah blah, literally no one cared. No one. Meanwhile, the gang leader watched the grown men freak out in front of her-some actually breaking out into tears, as she thought quickly. Her first thought was to crawl into the vents and follow the sound, which had now ceased. But with no sound to follow, she was shooting in the dark. The vent was on the right side of the room, so most likely, whoever had been listening was in the room right of theirs. That was the best she could do under these rushed and stressed circumstances. No way was Meenah Pexies going down so easily though, she had a fucking plan. Kill. Assuming this person wasn't an ally by the way they were sneaking around. Opening her legs, she hiked up her dress and reached into her panties, the room almost became silent again. Perverted fucks. Upon seeing her pull out her miniature bedazzled gun though, they started to beg for their lives. No no please I have a wife and children, please don't kill me no please! Meenah ignored their cries of mercy as she stood up and sauntered towards the door with murderous intent. The shouting promise from Cronus that he would calm them down in the mean time. 

     This was absolute rookie shit. The kind of thing that everyone gave a joking warning about, complete with those stupid fucking elbow nudges only the most idiotic of dickwits gave out But lo and behold, apparently the crowned king of all the idiotic dickwits was right here in the beforus lounge, and his heart was pounding like an overexcited jackhammer that took ten too many caffeine pills. With the phone still clenched in his hand, he was on his knees facing the vent. This was it. The evidence on his phone could have led to dismantling the HighBloods if he had even gotten the slightest break, but no, he'd been too lazy to swipe the ringer over to silent, and now none of that could ever happen. Somehow, he hand managed to hear a voice calling to stop th emeeting through the echoing vents and he wanted to throw up. Despite how much he wanted to, right now was absolutely not the time to panic like some kind of scared, little boy. He was a trained professional. Of course, his training was telling him he was fucked in all the worst kinds of ways. Time was against him, and even if he came out of his room a'blazing like some shitty TV action hero, and he somehow managed to plug every HighBlood here with a bullet through their skulls, he'd still be a dead man before he got half way to the exit. Both eyes squeezed shut for a length of time for Karkat to clear his panicking mind. By the time his eyes were open, he had an idea. A dumb fucking, asinine, plain old dumb idea that just might save his good for nothing life.  


     With a nimbleness he didn't know he had possessed, Karkat ripped his phone's battery cover off and pulled out the SD card that held the conversation between the old politicians and the HighBloods and then reaching into his jacket, he puled out his gun and his badge. It took no time for him to pray off the cover and thrust those three crucial items into the vent, forcing the metal housing back in place. His plan, however, was dumber than he had first thought. It was asinine-no not even that-it was just dumb. plain old dumb, this was the thing the class retard took a look at then pointed and laughed. This was the most agonizingly embarrassing attempt at a plan any being who had claimed to be sentient had ever constructed and the willingly went through with. But fuck him if he wasn't willing to try. Especially with that damn door knob jiggling the way it was, Karkat knew what little time he had left. 

    Yes. This was the best idea he had, with all his years of training, this is what he had come up with. Act like some light weight who had one too many drinks and stumbled his drunken ass to the first quiet place he could find to sleep it off. Was the plan sound? No. Was it better than being found as a federal agent who was recording a secret dealing between senators and gang members? Well, that remained to be seen, but it gave him better odds than anything else he did for now. 

     Why was this goddamn door so fucking hard to open?! Was it locked? It was pretty clear to see that whoever's phone went off, was hiding away in this room, and didn't want to be found. Well, she'd be damned if she was found out this way. Ramming into the door with her small shoulder, the door rumbled with her body weight, making poor Karkat's heart jump into his throat as he sprawled out near the vent, phone in hand, with his jacket over his face, praying to whatever god there was, that he wouldn't die today. 

    Finally, a metal clang was heard from Meenah's side of the door, and she burst into the room. A foldable chair? A fucking foldable chair?! THAT'S what had been holding her back?! Swallowing some embarrassment, hawk like eyes scanned the room, all too soon finding a body sprawled out by the vent. _Ya have to be fuckin kiddin me._  Part of her wanted to just turn around and leave. But the chair. The phone. The chance, she had to just find out who this fucker was, just in case. Storming over to him, the agent could hear his seconds count down with the click of her heels. Rolling her eyes, pink nails gripped the jacket, ripping it off his face (with the same intensity she had wished she could pull off that damn senator's with) and as Karkat felt s gun barrel pressed to his forehead, an angry woman's voice hovered above him. Damn. He was kinda cute. Wait what?! "Who the _FUCK_ are you and why are you here?!" Temper temper Pexies. She had no intention of killing him, but guns could be very...intimidating, working like a truth telling potion.  

    Slowly, Karkat forced his eyes open, channeling every abominable morning he'd ever had after a night of too much liquor. The sight that had greeted him wasn't exactly the one he wanted to see. The gold dress. The attractive features. The gaudy gun. The aggressive line of questioning. As if life hadn't taken a big enough shit on his life in the last three minutes, it looks as if Meenah Pexies herself had come to pay him a visit. Well fuck. Like anyone with a hangover, a bullet to the brain seemed like a tempting alternative, and he kept that in mind as Karkat's arm reached lazily for his jacket, and after failing to find it, fell limply to the floor. 

   "I'm some chump who thought I could sleep off the gutrot this place serves in a quiet room." He answered as groggily as he could manage, not daring to move under her, lest Pexies trigger finger get a little itchy. "Evidently though, you and your playskool gun already had dibs here though." Somewhere in the back of his mind, there was a tiny voice telling him to shut the fuck up and stop testing his luck, but honestly if he was going to be getting a bullet to the head, he might as well take the opportunity to mouth off to one of the most dangerous women alive. It wasn't exactly a thing he'd ever get to do again, not if her presumed body count had any truth to it. 

    One the other hand, Meenah felt the biggest wave of relief in all time wash over her. He really was just some drunk who thought it was a good idea to seek refuge in an empty conference room. Thank god! She showed not outward signs of this relief though, as she pressed the barrel of the gun a bit harder into his forehead. "Playskool gun huh?" She mused, with a grin so wide and so frightening, that it would make a shark swim in the opposite direction. "How would you feel about me blowin a playskool bullet straight through that head of yours, hm?' This was it, a trigger pulled, a loud bang, a dead dumbass, Karkat could practically see it now. All over the headlines. 'Dumbass agent killed in mess he fucked himself over in.' It was al sadly simple except the pink monstrosity didn't go bang and stain the floor with his blood, skull fragments, and brain matter. It was the last thing he had ever expected. With a slight eyeroll, Meenah Pexies brought the gun away from his head. 

     As the big bad gang leader sat down on the floor beside him, Karkat forced himself to sit up as well-slowly of course. He was supposed to be nursing a hangover. And as Meenah watched his poor bastard try and sit up, she couldn't hold back a laugh, bubbly, surprisingly happy, little fluttery tune. "You must be all kinds of fucked up if you think that lockin yourself in a goddamn conference room,  _and then_ talkin smack to a woman with a gun is a good idea." Ant to be truthful, he wasn't really sure if it was the pseudo insult/compliment that did it, or the cute little fit of laughter that was followed by it, but the unhappy frown he'd been wearing since his phone screamed it's catchy little tune into the vents just a bit and one of the corners of his mouth gave a small, but noticeable twitch upwards. "Maybe a bullet seemed like a better choice than the hangover." He said, looking at her while her laughing ceased and she smiled at him. That daring, dangerous, attractive smile.

     She groaned, standing up again, jeez these heels would be the death of her. "Well." She sighed, smiling down at him with a mixture of pity and amusment, one of her heel's feet kicked his jacket back over to him, watching him catch it clumsily, which earned him another giggle. "G'night shouty." Her voice still ringing with the fragments of laughter before she turned to the door to take her leave. 

   "MEENAH!"

    A man's voice rang from the doorway of the red and gold conference room, causing both Meenah and Karkat to jump in surprise. Cronus stood panting in the door way, his glossy, greasy, slicked back hair looking a bit messed up as his eyes were wide in panic. And just like that her charming smile was gone, a cold, hard, blank, serious expression in its place. 

   "Meenah he's gone! Direzzo! He panicked and made a break for it! He's going to the police"-that's all she needed to hear. The woman became visually murderous. "Motherfucker." Her voice edgy and sounding like she was just about ready to explode. Cocking her gun, she made sure she was ready to fire, ready to kill for real this time. She'd be damned if some round, grey haired, wrinkly fuck brought her down from the throne. "Get my boys." She ordered Cronus, and the man nodded and ran out of the doorway, looking for Dirk, Garret, and Equius. And just like that, Meenah Pexies was gone, running out of the Beforus lounge to protect her family, her friends, her pride, and her throne. A predator now. Meenah Pexies was a bad bitch, and when I say bad, I mean  _bad._

  



	2. Do He Got the Booty?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wow, this took way to long to write up

Peixes was on the move again, kicking his jacket back towards him again while Karkat was privy to another humanizing instance with the leader of a gang with the most corpses attributed to it since the turn of the century. He pressed his back against the wall, his body covering the vent with his belongings hastily hidden away in it as he gave a lethargic wave goodbye. Other than her busting into the room and putting a gun to his head it had been almost a pleasant meet and greet. Things seemed to end just as tensely though, when he had heard once again the accented voice of that mister Ampora character informing breathlessly that things had gone bad again, only it wasn't him that had the ire of the HighBlood leader pointed their way this time. Still though, if Direzzo could make it to the cops without being inside a body bag that would be a pretty big deal. Truth be told, even if Direzzo did get it with a few of those Playskool bullets things could still work out if that recording of Karkat's had someone saying the politician's name. That didn't change the fact, however, that Direzzo was pretty much his responsibility now since he wouldn't have Peixes and her HighBloods bearing down on him if Karkat hadn't fucked up so royally. That didn't mean he went chasing after them, he was still outnumbered and outgunned and guilt could only weigh him down so much on a guy that did dealings with people like the HighBloods. With a grunt that morphed into a long sigh, he moved slowly to his feet. For now he's have to leave his belongings tucked away since getting caught fishing them out would leave him in the same situation he'd just narrowly avoided, but that didn't mean he was done with taking stupid risks yet. His thumb dance across the face of the phone, leaving a simple message to be passed on along to the uniformed cops. There. Now it was their problem. Of course that meant every police radio in the surrounding area was blaring out the name and description of Direzzo, but that was all Karkat could do for the guy right now as he slipped on his jacket, straightened his tie and stepped out of the conference room he could have easily been killed in, doing his best not to make it obvious he was hurrying for the exit. 

A sea of dark black curls behind her, the woman's heels clacked noisily against the floor as the thugs-swanky looking thugs-but thugs all the same, flanked her, and ran out of the flashy lounge and out into the streets. Direzzo would be on foot, seeing as the HighBloods always made it a requirement that they send a nice comfortable taxi(or limo, depending on who was attending as well as what was going down) to their clients, in case of something like this happening. The first few minutes of jogging down the concrete sidewalk in golden strappy heels was fruitless, not a single grey haired, round politician in sight. Meenah swore to god, if she was busted by this-this CHUMP, he'd have hell to pay. Ugh! She hated running in heels! She much preferred her hot pink Osiris sneakers rather than the death shoes that were currently digging into the skin of her ankle. Yeah, she was probably bleeding in little indented lines now, and guess how many fucks she gave. None. Zero. Part of her was beginning to go into panic mode, what if they couldn't find Direzzo? What would happen to them? What would happen to Fef? The thought of the endangerment of her little sister fueled her ferocity as she ran on, hoping to find the little man that may or may not be sealing her doom at this very moment, and it seemed there was a god above(probably a very pissed off god). For lo and behold, she spotted the little round man, running faster than he ever could on a treadmill, running like his life depended on it-because well-it fucking did.

"HEY!"

Her voice rang through the streets, and Direzzo looked back at her momentarily, before crying out and trying to run faster. Damn heels! She'd have caught up to him by now if she weren't wearing the golden fuckers, that or she was about to break an ankle. "MOTHERFUCKER, GET BACK HERE!" She screamed at him, voice bouncing off the pavement of the streets, the walls of allies and closed shops, absolutely infuriated. She held out her arm, body bouncing up and down with her long running strides, making it hard to aim. She fired, halfhazardly the bottom of her golden dress tearing. "I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU! YOU HEAR ME YOU FUCKER?" A few more loud guns shots that rang close together, along with the whimpers of the absconding man, all missed shots. Faint police sirens rang in the distance-and in that moment she swore to god her heart stopped. She needed him dead now. There was no time for negotiation. No time for torture or bribery. Sorry chump. Bang. Hit. He was down for the count. Though, the woman and her three muscule ridden thugs, Equius, Garret, and Dirk, still ran up to the body, the woman giving him a few extra bullets to the head before deciding to run off into some dark ally way and book it on home. 

The image of seeing Direzzo's dead body, bouncing lifelessly with every shot she gave him, would stay in her mind forever, as well as every other murder she had ever committed. She wasn't proud of herself, nor was she happy or excited by the 'thrill' of killing. She didn't LIKE seeing the people she had killed. But life was a damned bitch, and everyone in it needed an adaptation, there was a natural selection of things, and she'd stay on top even if it ended up costing her her life. 

Much like the first three hours, Karkat's last forty seconds in the lounge were just as uneventful. A quick stop to the bar to settled his tab would keep anyone from trying to identify him for skipping out on hid bill followed by a leaving a tip not too extravagant or too insulting, just enough so the bartender wouldn't bother giving him another look, and a slow walk to the exit. Basic stuff-stuff that had been drilled into his head time and time again, but even knowing all that every fiber of his being was straining not to haul his ass. With fists clenched so tight his nails were threatening to draw blood, Karkat marched an even, unhurried pace all the way to the nondescript car he'd taken here. His teeth were gritted and every sinew of muscle he had was beyond tense. Things were on a delicate balance right now, and depending on how well he could handle himself it could mean the tipping point for one way of the other. After he was in the car, Karkat followed the path he'd memorized before even leaving for the Beforus Lounge. A long, pointless string of loops and doubling back around to make it difficult for the unlikely tail he could have picked up to follow him. Normally he found it to be an almost unbearable waste of time, but considering tonight's events it was better to play it safe. After all the sudden turns and stops had left him in a half-empty parking deck, only then did he call to check in on things. It shouldn't have been a surprise that Direzzo had been found with a couple more holes in him than he had when Karkat had last seen him. A deep growl came out all the same as he slammed his fist into the poor car radio in frustration, leaving the screen slightly cracked. A sullen sigh quickly replaced the anger as his head leaned forward to rest against the steering wheel. He was going to have to pay to replace that, and he was probably going to have to pay for a lot more things than just that tonight. Illegally obtained evidence hidden poorly away in a place where high-level gang dealings went down next to the two items that could rather easily identify him. A dead, well-noted politician. A warning to the police that came from his phone. Tonight was going to be a mountain of paper work and lies of omission. He obviously couldn't let anything out about the recording, but at any rate a believable story about Direzzo should be easy enough to come up with. At least until he got his belongings back from the lounge. A thing he knew that was better done sooner than later. Not tonight though. There was too much to deal with tonight. It would have to be tomorrow, and he'd have to use a similar tactic as before. Another burnt night hardly seemed a steep price for a chance at being able to put Meenah Peixes and her HighBlood's away for good though. As the car started back up his thoughts drifted to his brief encounter with the gang leader and her garnish gun, and while he tried to forget it, that stupid, bubbly giggle of hers also echos around the corners of his mind. A quick shake of the head cleared away his thoughts. Karkat had too much to worry about right now to bother with daydreaming.

Panting alongside the brutes that flanked her, Meenah could feel the war, salty blood trickle down her right foot, trying to ignore the pain, realizing that she-now-was the one running for her life. No doubt the Feds knew it was her who had murdered this well known politician, and they'd be after her before long, if not already. Holding her gun in one hand, she could hear her own heart beating in her ears, lungs burning. Soon, Dirk left her side, running into a 'safe' restraunt. Equius soon too pealed away and slipped into the nearest 'safe' laundromat. Garret stayed with her for a while before disapearing into the night. She'd see them at their hide out later tonight. For now, they needed to separate, throw off anyone who may know them, have beef with them, or want to see them tumble to the ground. Meenah knew she had a fair share of enemies, and she wasn't angling to pick a fight with any of the serious tough ones tonight. Especially alone. Jogging across an empty parking lot in front of the city's harbor, she decided to catch her breath. The salty air and smell of the ocean had always been a comfort to her, even as a child, but she couldn't stay very long, maybe just a while, just long enough to take off those hellish heels she had forced herself to wear for tonight and sit on the floating docks. Catching up with her breath she crouched down, undoing the straps of her heels, finding bloody stripes where the straps had dug into the soft tanned skin. 

"ugh fuck." She cursed under her breath, looking at the gnarly wounds, placing her gun beside her. The lap of the ocean waves was the only accompanying sound of the night's crickets. The summer night was hot, and if she had had the time-she might have even considered her adolescent love of skinny dipping. 

Halfway through the mountain of paper work and reports that he had usually spent as much time on as actually doing useful things for society, Karkat was quietly wishing Pexies had pulled the trigger on that glitzed up gun of hers and fired a sparkling bullet right through his eye. He's be dead, sure, but at least he wouldn't be filling out anything in triplicate. An arm flung out, smashing into the forms and partially completed reports and knocking them off his desk. Fuck this and fuck the anal retentive bureaucrat who ever once thought that anything ever needed to be filled out three times. According to his boss Karkat was already in knee-deep shit for not doing more about keeping Direzzo out of the morgue. Apparently the greedy fuck had been looking for another donation despite Direzzo's HighBlood connection, and the fact that Karkat had been so outnumbered wasn't an acceptable excuse. SO with that kind of heat coming down on him, a little late night paper work wasn't going to make things too much worse, and with a tie so loose it might as well be undone he slipped out before having to endure anymore gripes from his higher ups. Sometimes it was really hard to remember he was supposed to be working for the good guys.

According to his phone the sun wouldn't be up for another few hours, which meant even id he could get some sleep it would be pointless since there was nothing he could do until later in the day anyway. Besides, he had too much on his mind to bother with resting right now. That's why he was walking aimlessly around the city with his jacket slung loosely over his shoulder, mind drifting from one thing to the next. It was going to be a long couple of days. He just knew it. 

At the docks around the harbor, in a fit of anger and desperation, Meenah had managed to chuck her heels into the ocean. She didn't want them anymore. Her poor feet were all bloody and red and sticky now. She had to cope with a new murder fresh in her head, and she had to worry about the goddamn Feds since she had just killed a senator. In her defense, she had had no choice! It was a kill or be killed situation (kinda). She had let that animalistic instinct take over her body, and she had murdered someone in cold blood. Wiping away the tears she didn't even know she had been crying with the back of her hand, she pushed off the docks of the harbor. It was time to go home. The gang leader could have really gone for a blunt right about now to settle her nerves. Walking through the empty streets of the city that trembled beneath her to get home was always a journey made in the dark. She was never afraid though, she knew the most dangerous thin on these streets was her, which was both a comfort and a hazard. 

It hadn't been long, maybe fifteen minutes at the most, before someone had noticed his absence. The phone that had caused everything to topple down like some poorly set up dominos buzzed itself stupid in Karkat's pocket. It was immediately turned off after the sixth consecutive call. Whoever it was could make do without him tonight. It's not like he was of much use to anyone in the state he was in. When Karkat rounded the corner he almost laughed. The sight that greeted him wasn't actually humorous. He should be frightened, out in the open with no one around and nothing to protect himself while the murderous Meenah Pexies seemed to be ambling her way in his direction. 

This felt like one of those nights where everything in the universe seemed to have singled him out just to see what he's do when pretty much everything bad that could happen did. Maybe it had been such a long night that his fight or flight response was broke. Then again the latter half of that instinctual reaction wasn't really an option on the likely chance that she still had that Playskool pistol hidden away, and if she did he could haul all the ass he wanted, but there was no way he could out run the hot head. 

Why was it so damned hot? why why why? Bare feet padded along the pavement, blinking street lights, the occasional bark of a dog, all casualties of walking home alone so many nights, nights after nights running from the cops. Running from a rival gang. Running from shooting, killing. Moments like this were when Meenah liked to forget what she had done-whatever she had been doing-and just breath. Her feet were only slightly bleeding now, mostly dried blood in thick X lines on her feet. 

"Hey."

he didn't even bother with a deep breath this time as he raised his arm and gave who was likely the most dangerous woman he'd ever seen a second lazy wave in the same night. There was no point to playing Fed while things were so up in the air, and while he wasn't going to play Fed, he wasn't going to run away either, which only ;eft him with one option. "You look like you've had a long night. Did someone finally explain to you how embarrassing that gun of yours was?"

Where you fucking kidding me? She laughed, out loud into the air as her dark expression drew out into a smile. "Shouty? Is that you?" Her light bubbly, fluttering laugh echoing as she limped towards him. She decided that he must've slept off most of that hangover he had, which had tossed him right into her line of wrath. The least she could do now was be nice, she had probably scared the shit out of him. Though, it struck her as odd. He must know who she is. Practically the whole city knew her face. He didn't run away though. Instead he had waved to her and called out, she had to admit it was a nice change. "Hey, its a damn fine ass lookin' gun, aight?" She laughed out, finding irony in the situation all too amusing. "Betta than any gun you could get ya self"


End file.
